A Week with Arianna: Monday

"Breathe, slut," I said, trying to relax her. She raised up and looked at me. "I have another one to go," I said. She just shook her head and sniffled. A tear ran down her face. She looked away as she offered me her right breast.

I was a little nicer with this one, pulling it off slowly and sensually rather then ripping it off. She bent forward and placed her hands on the table, biting her lip, moaning in either pleasure or pain. She really did look wonderful like that, shirt open, bra pulled down, tits out and the marks from the clips still present on both breasts. I was still surprised that she allowed me to torment her so - that she was so willing to suffer for my pleasure - and I would have been even more shocked if I had not known that she was deriving some sort of sick pleasure form it as well.

She sniffled again. She was in her own world somehow, and it was barely registering with her that I was even in her room. "Okay, are you ready for this?" I asked, holding the circles. She just nodded and straightened up.

I caressed her sore, tender breasts, and her nipples stood at attention as I prepared them for their next torment. Then, I held the circles against her nipples as she pulled her bra into place. Satisfied that her torment would be prolonged, I watched as she buttoned her shirt back up to where it was when we entered the room. She walked out of the room, and I followed her. I checked the time. It was 10:58.

For a few minutes I left her alone, concentrating on the work I had to do that day. Then, maybe ten minutes after we had left the room, I got a text message.

"My nipples are on fire!" She said. I pulled up her webcam and saw that she was sitting there, eyes looking like they wanted to tear up. I smiled a little to myself. I watched as she moved a little to her right, closing and opening her eyes, grabbing her breasts and shifting them inside her bra. I knew that the sandpaper would scuff her nipples and the more she moved around, the more it would burn.

"I can't help but notice you aren't complaining," I wrote back. Soon she was at my desk.

"What the fuck is in this thing, seriously. I'm about to go run cold water on my nipples!" She spoke quietly, flirtatiously, but hastily.

"Oh, that - there's some tiger balm. I put a small dab on the sandpaper. I thought it might get your attention."

"Wh - you put tiger balm in my bra?" She asked. I just smiled at her. "Seriously? And sandpaper? Together?"

"How's it feel?" I asked. She just shook her head and walked away. I was a little surprised she didn't ask for permission to take it out of her bra - not that I would have given it to her. Maybe she even knew that and that's why she didn't ask.

Minutes went by. It was 11:15. I looked up and maximized the webcam video. She was starting to grit her teeth a little and breathe heavily. I couldn't believe the slut was enduring this kind of torment, while working, all in the name of - for all I knew - a desire to feel as if she was not in control of her own body.

"Okay, I've had this in for twenty minutes," came the text message five minutes later. "Can I please take it out now? It hurts soooo bad!"

"Come down to my desk," I replied. Within a few seconds, Ari came down, walking quickly.

"Having trouble getting work done?" I asked her.

"Yeah, this hurts. A lot." She whispered. "I can't concentrate at all."

"You've seemed like you are on a different planet."

"I feel like I'm on one. Or maybe I'm in Hell."

I smiled at her. "No, you may not take them out yet. Wait another twenty minutes, then come see me." She left as quickly as she came. For the next ten minutes, I sat there, actually working, and then I spent the next ten minutes watching Ari sit there, not doing much of anything at all. She kept positioning and repositioning herself, biting her lip, gritting her teeth. Toward then end she seemed to stay in one position for a good four minutes, having apparently learned that moving around may have offered some short term relief but caused more long term pain.

Finally, at about 11:40, Arianna came walking slowly down to my desk. "You wanted to see me?" She said.

"Oh, yes, I did," I replied. "You're free to go remove the sandpaper. But you'll need to put those binder clips on your pussy lips - one on each side - and leave those on until I give you permission to remove them." She actually thanked me before she walked away. I guessed that she was just relieved that I had, for the moment, turned my attention away from her nipples.

Then, I sat there, wondering what was going on inside the ladies' room. I knew she had gone there to take the sandpaper out. I imagined her inside a stall, crumpling up the sandpaper and throwing it in the toilet, wiping the balm, or what remained of it, off her nipples. I imagined her drying her eyes with a tissue, in disbelief that she was allowing herself to be abused this way, but in no shape to do anything to stop it. She did not own her body anymore; nor did she want to. She maybe even opened the stall door, rubbing her sore, puffy nipples, wondering how long it would be before they felt normal again. She went back inside the stall and reached up under her skirt, applying the clips to her labia, gasping a little as she did.

Perhaps the slut even stopped for a minute or two, slipping a finger inside her moist, willing cunt, soaking her finger in her juices. Perhaps she even brought the finger to her mouth to taste her own cunt. She fingered herself hastily, the pain driving her to the edge of orgasm before she stopped, knowing that she did not have permission to go any farther. After all, it seemed like forever that she was in the bathroom - so as unlikely as it might seem, perhaps I wasn't wrong.

Finally, reluctantly, she replaced her bra, buttoned her shirt, and returned to the office, where I sat waiting.

"I have an errand for you, Ari," I called out to her. She walked down to my desk again. I imagined that the clips pulled on her pussy with every step she took, giving her an extra jolt of pain. I wondered if it turned her on as much as it did me.

"Can you take this down to the post office?" I asked.

"That's - it's like, two blocks!"

"I know. And you go there all the time, right?"

"Sure, But -"

"But what?"

"Nothing," she said. She knew I knew. I knew she knew. And really, I just wanted to force her to walk around with her pussy clamped up. But she took the envelope and walked out the door. Maybe, as I suspected earlier, she was just happy her nipples were being left alone - for now.

I watched out the window as she walked down the street. More than anything, I just wanted to make sure she didn't cheat - that she didn't stop somewhere and take the clamps off without my knowledge. But she didn't. She kept going like a good girl, although she walked slower and slower as she went. I wonder what she must have been feeling.

In the meantime, I texted her to meet me in the bathroom again when she got back. Of course, I was going to use her as my little urinal again, and I wanted her to think about that possibility as she walked back. I started to work on actual work for a good fifteen or twenty minutes, then I wandered down the hall to the bathroom and waited on her to arrive. Soon after, she opened the door, looked around, and stepped inside.

"Whew," she said. "Um - sir, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes. How are you feeling?"

"Are you serious?"

"Sure am."

"Well my pussy fucking hurts. You keep torturing me. At first I wanted you to fuck me but now I'm not even sure I'd like it."

"You little slut," I said. "You'd get off twice as fast if you were in pain, wouldn't you? Don't lie to me." I leaned in close and wrapped her in my arms. She embraced me, and I looked down at her before locking our lips together. There was something about this girl. She kissed me with so much passion, despite the pain she must have felt. She parted her lips from mine and placed them near my ear.

"You can hurt me as much as you want, just please, fuck me," she whispered.

"Not now," I whispered. "You needy little slut. There is so much more you will take before you deserve that. Do you understand?"

Ari backed away. "Yes, sir," she replied.

"What do you deserve?"

"I deserve more pain - to be tortured - and hurt," she said.

"Exactly. It turns you on to say that, doesn't it, slut?" I was getting away from calling her by her name. She didn't seem to mind, so I kept going.

"Yes," she said meekly.

"Good. You also deserve a nice mouthful of piss, don't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Get on your knees." The slut was so turned on, she didn't even bother to protest any more. Not that I had that much piss to give her this time. She knelt and opened her eyes, looking directly into mine. I took out my cock and aimed it directly between her lips. In seconds, the warm yellow liquid was squirting out into her waiting hole.

"Swallow," I said. "Open." She quickly gulped down half a mouthful of piss and I was filling her up again before she knew what happened. "You nasty little piss whore. Swallow it, slut!" She swallowed again. She gagged, and started coughing, but as soon as she was able, she sat still and opened her mouth for more.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes please," she replied. I indulged her, filling her mouth most of the way up, ordering her to swallow again. She did.

"How do you like drinking every drop of my piss?" I asked her.

"It's disgusting," she said.

"But it turns you on, doesn't it?"

"Yes. I hate the taste. I can barely keep it down. But yes."

"Open." I emptied the last of my bladder into her mouth, but I did not tell her to swallow. There she sat, with a mouthful of my piss, waiting on the word. I didn't give it.

"Stand up," I said. She stood, and I lifted her skirt up. I felt the clips still attached to her pussy - these must have been killing her by now - and I slowly took one of them off.

"Mmmmm," was all she could say, moaning loudly, the blood rushing back to her pussy. The clip really left a mark too - it really had dug itself into her skin. Just looking at her, I actually started to feel bad for what I was putting her through. But even if she wouldn't admit it, I knew how much she loved it, and I didn't want to take anything away from her. Slowly, I removed the other clip, eliciting a like reaction from her.

"Swallow," I commanded. She did. I looked up. Her eyes were filled with tears. The combination of the pain in her pussy and the mouthful of piss must have been a lot to handle at once. So I have her a tissue and moved to the other side of the room, giving her space. When she finished wiping her tears, I took the tissue and gave her a hug.

"Good girl," I said. "You know you deserve that, don't you?"

"Yes," she said softly. "Thank you." I was about to ask her how she would feel about being my full-time urinal while we were at work - or even just for this week - but there was a part of me that always liked keeping her a little bit in the dark about my plans to use her. So I decided to leave that alone and focus on the present.

"Now, one more thing. We're about to go to lunch. But before we get there, you have a choice - you can either go braless, or you can wear the clips on your nipples again.

"Oh, shit!" She replied. She thought for a moment. "I'm not going braless. Not in this." "We'll see about that," I thought.

"Then put the clips on. I want to watch you do it yourself," I said.

She shook her head.

"Fine, have it your way," I said. "This time. Meet me at my car in ten minutes - either with no bra, or with the clips on."

Arianna nodded and walked away. She disappeared into the ladies' room for at least five of those ten minutes, and I imagined she was agonizing over whether to go to lunch with me with her nipples painfully clipped or braless in a white blouse with navy polka dots.

She met me at my car as agreed. "So what did you decide," I asked.

"I told you, I'm not going braless in this," she said with a smile.

"So you have the clips on?" I asked. I unlocked the car and and we climbed inside.

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Before we go, let me see. I want to make sure." Arianna did not object, but slowly began to unbutton her shirt, pulling it open, taking her bra with it. Inside, her large, round nipples were indeed pinched by the same clips she was wearing earlier.

"There. Believe me now?" She asked me, as if she was irritated with me for wanting to see.

I quickly slapped her across the face. "Don't talk to me that way. I can see your clamped nipples if I like, can't I?"

"Yes, master. I'm sorry." She replied.

"Fine. But for that, you're going to button up one button fewer than usual on your shirt until we get back to the office." She buttoned her shirt back up, leaving an extra button undone. Arianna really didn't seem to mind showing a little cleavage - although she generally dressed conservatively, it was about the only part of her body she seemed to occasionally display at work.

"My nipples are on fire," she said as we sat down at the restaurant.

"Good," I said with a smile. "Ari, tell me something. I need to know your bra size."

"Why?"

"I'm going to bring you something tomorrow."

"It's 34-D" she said without questioning me further.

We ordered our food, and Arianna thereafter seemed to be on a different planet of sorts, unable to focus on making conversation, or anything else.

"What's going on, you seem a little off today?" I asked.

"You know what's going on," she said.

"Are you turned on or something?" I asked.

"This - this is like - torture," she replied.

"Is it humiliating having your tits tortured at a restaurant?"

"Yes."

"What would your boyfriend think if he knew what you were up to right now?"

"That I'm a slut, probably." I was really going to enjoy teasing her about her boyfriend - how her body belonged to me, about how she went home to him with a stomach full of my piss, about how he couldn't make her cum because she wasn't allowed - but I was going to wait until later in the week to really get into that area with her.

"And what do you think?" I asked her.

"What do you mean?" She asked with a confused look.

"Do you think of yourself as a slut?" I asked.

She took a long pause before answering. "Yes," she said. Her body sank and her head dropped, her eyes cast somewhere toward the floor as she said this. It looked like she was humiliated just admitting what she was.

"Good," I said. "I like thinking of you as a slut too," I told her, only I was smiling.

"Well...I'm a slut," she confessed erotically. "I've been drinking my boss's piss like - twice today already - and fucking you and letting you torture me, all behind my boyfriend's back."

"Yes. And speaking of that," I said, "I'll be right back. I took the paper coffee cup and washed it out in the bathroom sink, pissed into it, and replaced the lid. I left the bathroom and went back to our table and handed it to Arianna.

"Ow!" She said as she reached out for it. "My nipples! It's like - every time I move it gets worse!"

"I know," I told her. "I'll give you the option again to take them off and go braless."

"Here?!" She replied. "Everyone will see my nipples through this shirt!"

"I know that, Ari," I replied. "But I also know that I would enjoy showing you off a little. Nothing too extreme, you know - it's not like I'm asking you to flash cars on the highway or anything." I looked to my left and thought about how I would, in fact, enjoy Arianna standing next to a busy street, shirt pulled up or to the side, sharing her bare breasts with passing traffic. Or how I would like to see her lift her shirt up and flash truckers from my passenger seat. I wondered if I could ever get her to do something like that.

"Given the choice, like - right now, I'd rather have them tortured," she replied seductively, snapping me out of my daydream.

"Okay, but just so you know - I may not always give you a choice."

Ari just nodded and took the cup, bringing it to her nose, confirming her suspicion about its contents. She didn't need further instructions this time. Without even being asked, she closed her eyes, brought it to her lips, and took a big gulp.

After she had finished the piss, which nearly made her vomit and which she had to drink slowly owing to the small hole in the lid, we met back at my car. She got inside, ready to go back to the office.

"Lift up your skirt, Ari," I instructed.

"Right here?" She asked.

"There's nobody around," I said.

"Derek!"

I slapped her hard across the face. "You are you call me master, sir, or Mr. Mitchell," I said sternly. "Do you understand? Now, skirt up, slut!"

She just looked at me for a moment after I called her by a new pet name for the first time. She looked as if she realized she had given me an implicit OK to do this when she was talking about the fact that, yes, she is a slut at the lunch table. "Yes, master," she said, and reached down, pulling up her black above-the-knee skirt to reveal her panties.

"Here," I said. "Pull these to the side," I said as I reached over and rugged on her undergarment, pulling it away from me and exposing her pussy. "Hold this," I said. She did, her pussy clearly in view, as I stroked it softly.

"Oohhhhh, yesss!" Arianna hissed. She began to shift her hips, rocking her pussy back and forth in rhythm against my finger, craving more of a sensation than I was giving her.

"I want you to tell me you're a slut, Arianna," I said.

"Yes sir - I'm a slut - - I'm a slut, sir," she said. "I love it - being a slut - please don't stop, sir!"

"You love drinking my piss, don't you, slut?"

"Ohhh, yes, sir," she replied.

"You'll do whatever I want when you're horny, won't you?"

"Yes - yes sir - please, can I cum? Please? I'll be a good girl, I promise - I need it - can you - can you - please just take me somewhere and fuck me - please - I need it, ohhhhh!" She looked at me and licked her lips seductively.

"You look so slutty begging me to fuck you," I said, smiling. "But I know you just want to cum, and you aren't cumming until Friday," I said.

Arianna sighed. "I'm desperate," she said.

"Here," hold your right knee up with your hand. Spread your pussy wide for me." I said. Arianna did so without a word.

"So, are you..."

"You aren't cumming," I said sternly. "We can talk about whether I'm going to fuck you or not when we get back to the office. For now, just hold this knee up and spread this pussy open wide."

I started to drive away, but as I did so, I reached out and began to stroke her exposed pussy. I rubbed up and down, my middle finger sandwiches between her labia like the filling on an ice cream sandwich, my ring finger and index finger caressing the labia on either side. God, she was wet. And hot, too - I could feel the warmth of her pussy before I even felt her skin.

"Ohhh," she moaned. "That - that feels - so nice," she continued. "But people are going to see - see me - see you fingering me," she continued, moaning.

"Would you like me to stop?" I asked.

"No, no, please don't stop!" She half-whispered to me. It was then that I plunged a finger into her wet, waiting cunt, and began to finger her in earnest.

"Oh, God," she moaned. "Mmmmm." I looked around, but there really wasn't anybody around to see her - the other cars on the road weren't high enough to see what was going on inside mine, and there were no trucks around.

I just continued to finger her for a moment before I stopped and said, "spread it wider, slut. I want to slap it."

"There, slap me, sir," Arianna said submissively as she spread even wider. Her right knee was up against the car window as I raised my hand and slapped her cunt.

"Ow!" She exclaimed as I slapped her a second time. But she just spread her leg even wider, if that was possible, turning toward me. I slapped her again before stopping for a moment.